


Uninvited

by A_Quiet_Place



Category: Naruto
Genre: Anbu Hatake Kakashi, Identity Reveal, Iruka sensei, M/M, Male Slash, Obsession, Original Character Death(s), Stalking, Stress Relief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-10 06:56:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11686407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Quiet_Place/pseuds/A_Quiet_Place
Summary: Iruka gets an anonymous late night guest in need of some mental stability, dealing with crazed jounin was one thing, but Anbu quite another. Warning: MA R18 contains mature male on male content, and some bad language.





	1. Chapter 1

_Authors note: I don't own these characters or the world they are from. This pair have probably run their course, but I was re-watching the anime and felt the need to write something._  
_MA contains explicit male on male content. Constructive criticism welcome._

 

Jounin were crazy, that much would always hold true. No one knew that better than Iruka; they had been crazy two decades ago and they were still crazy now. The missions they were sent on, the stress they were under and the lives they took all bundled them into a neat little package of frayed nerves and razor edged tempers. The chunin teacher had to deal with them day after day in the mission room, he'd seen the best and the worst of them come back from their deployment with reports clenched in hand.

Iruka had been trained to deal with the majority of it, the rage, tears or inexplicable laughter that followed the B rank and higher mission status. It was much harder to deal with the Jounin when there was nothing in their eyes at all. Only the strongest survived in the hidden leaf, and the silence that followed missions could be the largest crack in the strength of will, one every mission desk personal was trained to look out for.

He might not be the one with blood on his hands after the missions, or recent and painful loss hanging round him like a cloud, but he still had to see it in the eyes of past students, friends and peers, that alone was enough to swear off becoming a Jounin. He had enough trouble sleeping as it was. He dreaded the day Naruto came to him like that.

The only thing worse than Jounin in terms of mental stability were the Anbu, the village went through black ops members like a hot knife through butter. There were very few that were pulled back into the group after being deactivated for good reason, mental stability was the sand in the hourglass for the Konoha elite. They were dangerous, deadly and efficient. Everything they did was under scrutiny and strict instruction of the Hokage, the perfect killing machines, sent out for one purpose.

Iruka would never have to deal with their mission reports, that was a privilege reserved for the Hokage herself, on his worst days Iruka would remind himself of that. He would never have to watch the deadliest men and women in Konoha recount what they had been through, or try to restrain them when they fell apart.

Sometimes the thought made him feel better.

He had spent the past week in his own kind of hell, all but chained to the mission desk, running back and forward from the Hokage's office with more pending tasks that required special grading. The mission room was almost chaotic, tempers flared almost hourly, more than a few fights had broken out which had Iruka treating grown men and women like his young students. His quick temper had been enough to clear the room despite his lower rank, not even Genma provoked him when he was riled up.

The chunin teacher spent the last five minutes of his day forcing himself not to fall asleep on his reports. He had a lonely bed waiting for him back home it would not do to have an affair with the solid wood of his work desk.

His tired body protested as he pulled himself upright, hands barely remembering to gather his things before waving wearily at his exhausted peers. There was something about the time of year that set everyone on edge, the lantern festival was approaching fast and no one wanted to be working during it, so a few months before almost every Shinobi and their nin-dogs were busting through the mission room door.

He stifled a yawn, and allowed his aching legs to carry him home. There was no blond flash running at him full tilt while yelling his name, Naruto was out training again and had been gone over a week. Even though he would be much too tired to appreciate the company, Iruka felt a pang of remorse over the fact. He missed the brat, eating Ichiraku's ramen alone wasn't nearly as enjoyable.

His thoughts distracted him a fraction too long, he nearly walked right into an armored figure on the road before him. Iruka started, hopping back a step with apologies on his lips that died before release. He stared into the ceramic mask of one of the Anbu.

"Ah, Anbu-sama, I'm sorry I wasn't watching where I was going." He apologized quickly, and ducked his head. The ceramic mask only nodded at him, the white and red painted dog mask peeked out from underneath the hood of a cloak, revealing nothing of the man behind it. Iruka went to move onward, but paused when a hand landed on his shoulder.

"You can't afford to be distracted, sensei." The dog mask murmured, voice muffled by the mask.

Iruka went beet red in two seconds flat, fighting the urge to defend himself with more than one sharp phrase, but this was an Anbu, and he bit back the remarks.

"Of course! I'm sorry, it's been a long day." He choked out and bowed his head again, feeling mortified.

The hound mask regarded him silently, allowing the teachers growing awkwardness to reach its full potential. Iruka broke fairly quickly under the scrutiny, dipping his head quickly in effort to end the interaction.

"Excuse me, I should be getting home." He said much too fast, his feet already pulling him away from the armored black ops member standing in the middle of the street.

A firm hand on his shoulder again halted him immediately, its grip only allowing Iruka to half turn to face the masked man.

"You live alone, Umino Iruka sensei." Their wasn't a question in the dog-faced nins tone, it was just a statement of the obvious followed by silence and an unwavering grip on his shoulder. Iruka wasn't sure what to say to the non-question, he kept waiting for a reason behind the statement but minutes seemed to tick passed with no clarification on the reason for the words.

"Ah, yes." Iruka spoke cautiously, fearing the worst for the masked man's sanity. "Was there something you wanted, Anbu-sama?"

The hand slowly pulled back form Iruka's shoulder, followed with a slow shake of the masked head. Iruka backed up a few steps waiting for another halt to his increasingly desperate need to depart, when none came he quickened his pace, glancing back once or twice as he fled. The Anbu's gaze followed him until he was around the next corner.

Iruka felt the coiling tendrils of dread settle into his gut. He tried to shrug it away but the feeling wouldn't be quietened. Had Tsunade put the Anbu up to this? Was this some kind of punishment for his miss-spent youth, the the time he had managed to drop a bucket full or worms down the medical nin's front in her pre-Hokage years? He knew she wouldn't have forgotten. The thought of this as her ultimate revenge was appalling, the Anbu would eat him alive.

He slept poorly even after setting up twice the amount of wards he would have normally.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

His sense of foreboding lessened over the next three days, his routine carrying on as usual, teaching the young minds of Konoha's next generation of proud Shinobi followed with dishing out the dregs of the mission barrel to the students of yesterday. The lantern festival was the worst time of year.

He dragged himself home after another exhausting day, he made it as far as his kitchen before his uniform started coming off, sandals dropping carelessly to the floor and flack jacket over the dining chair in his small apartment. His headband came off and his dark hair came down, his scalp itching from fresh air, his fingers made some half-hearted attempt to ease the sensation but really all he could focus on was getting a drink of hot tea and collapsing onto his couch.

He was proud of himself for not screaming when the dog faced Anbu popped into existence right beside his kitchen table. As a rule, allied nin did not flicker into each others homes unannounced, it was dangerous, but Dog face seemed to have lost the memo.

Iruka had a kunai already in hand when he realized who, or rather, what it was. He stared dumbly for a few moments, unsure of what to expect. Was he in trouble? Was something wrong?

_Naruto._

He felt the panic rise and his mouth opened to start the bombardment of questions when he noticed the Anbu was a little worse for wear. His flack jacket was splattered with blood, there was a scratch on his carefully painted mask.

"Umino Iruka, Sensei." The muffled tones of the nin stalled anything Iruka might have yelled. "I need a favor." Of all the things the Anbu could have said, he had not been expecting that, it took him a moment to respond at all.

"What do you need, Anbu-sama?" Iruka picked his words carefully, not wishing to be involved in anything despite the other man's status. He took a deep steadying breath waiting for the killing blow or some sort of horrible joke to be sprung, his fingers ran nervously across the scar over the bridge of his nose.

The masked nin paused, as if deliberating, his head tilting slightly to the side. He was tense, even Iruka could see that, his stance played at looking casual, but the taught line of his shoulders and the way his fingers twitched just slightly, as if retraining themselves from some violent activity, gave him away.

"I need to stay the night here, with you." The muffled voice said finally causing Iruka to gape at him stupidly.

"What? Why?" A barrage of questions raced through his head, all trying to flee his lips at once. "Are you in trouble? Does the Hokage know?" The hound let out what could only be a frustrated growl, silencing the chunin.

"This is a personal matter, it doesn't concern the Hokage or the Anbu."

"But-" Iruka was seriously considering just yelling for the medical nin to come and check on the man.

"I need to feel human again, please. I just need a night." There was a pained note to the voice behind the expressionless mask. Iruka felt his resolve weaken, perhaps the elite nin had no one else to turn to. It might be an ex-student, searching for the structure and familiarity of his old classroom. If the black ops member had felt the need to come to him specifically, still in uniform, it meant he didn't want to be known for his weakness.

"Why?" Iruka managed, feeling the tense set of his shoulders loosen up a fraction. He didn't exactly feel safe, or expect the truth, but if it turned out the man was on the run he needed to set him at ease before he hurt someone. Iruka was trained to deal with emotional Jounin's, the Anbu were just a step above that, weren't they? He could call for help when the Anbu had settled down a bit, make sure the proper care was sent for him.

"You live alone, it is quiet here." There was a pause. "I trust you."

"What, uh, exactly do you want from me?" Iruka did his absolute best to keep his expression open and comforting. He might need something a bit stronger than tea after this.

"Just let me be near you." At least it wasn't particularly challenging. Iruka exhaled to relax the muscles in his shoulders and then nodded slowly, it wasn't exactly how he had planned to spend his evening, but if it was all it took to calm down a murderous shinobi then he could work with it.

"In that case, take a seat." Emboldened by his apparent control over the situation, the chunin continued his quest for a hot tea, he moved past the hound mask as if it didn't make his heart pound against his ribs. The Anbu moved to accommodate the teacher in the small kitchen but made no motion to sit, rather he sort of loomed behind Iruka like an uncertain shadow.

"I'm pretty tired," Iruka admitted trying to make conversation that would ease some of the tension in the small apartment, while his hands busily filled the kettle and prepared two cups. "I was about to have a drink and go to bed, I don't know what sort of company I'm going to be."

"Let me stay, please, sensei." The nin shifted, that muffled tone suddenly very close to Iruka's right ear, causing the chunin to freeze.

"Well I mean-" Iruka felt his blood go cold, he knew what he would see if he turned, so he did his best to ignore the proximity of the elite shinobi. "I don't really have anywhere but the couch for you to sleep." He tried to keep his tone light and jovial, it was a struggle.

"Yes." The nin agreed. Iruka paused again, a little baffled by the response.

"If you are happy to sleep on the couch I will do my best to make it comfortable." Kami, this was going to be a rough night, was it going to be possible to sleep at all with the knowledge this man was in his home?

"Please." The Anbu murmured, still much too close. It was uncertain whether he was still asking to stay or agreeing to the sleeping conditions, Iruka took in another steadying breath and forced himself back into tea making action. How could he alert the village guard without upsetting the man?

"What do I call you?" Sake, he needed a lot of sake.

"Hound." The voice breathed, the hot air brushed against the back of the chunin's neck. Was it Iruka's imagination or had he got closer?

"Alright, Hound. Why don't you make yourself comfortable? I will bring you a drink."

"Let me stay." Dog-face insisted. He had snapped, Iruka was sure, the repetition was almost desperate.

"You can stay, of course." The chunin felt his heart beat hammering away. "I just want to make you a drink, is that alright?"

"You're tired."

"I am, but tea always relaxes me." Iruka rationalized, it was becoming much too hard to keep his tone even.  
There was silence as a response, a quick glance over his shoulder revealed the nin had moved. The armored figure now stood in his lounge, examining the wall mounted photo's Iruka kept of his friends and students. Was he one of them? He didn't seem young enough but, it was so hard to tell.

Iruka's mind raced, categorizing the various people he had known over the years. The Anbu knew him, that was for certain, but if the nin had snapped then his actions were not ones that he would recognize.

The shrieking kettle brought him back to reality, he grimaced at the noise, glancing back once more to make sure it hadn't startled the Anbu.

Hound hadn't moved.

He set the drinks on the dining table and seated himself, the thought did cross his mind to send a message out while the Anbu was distracted, but it was quickly dismissed when the nin moved, much too fast, to be at the table. The man still wouldn't sit, despite Iruka's invitation, instead he stared at the tea as if it presented some kind of challenge.

Which, Iruka supposed, it did.

"Oh, sorry." The chunin ducked his head, and stood, moving back into the kitchen and returning with a straw. The Anbu took it and finally sat, the straw and slipped underneath the bottom of the mask to suck up the tea.

The image was so bizarre that Iruka felt a laugh bubble up. Before he could stop it, it had burst from his lips, startling himself and the Anbu. He slapped a hand over his mouth, and turned beet red. _Shit._

The silence in the room was palpable. A few horrifying moments passed before the elite nin let out a humming sigh, the taught lines of his shoulders slumping just a little. That was progress, perhaps Iruka wouldn't get murdered tonight after all.

They drank in silence, Iruka, because he didn't want to say anything that would ruin the relaxed state of the nin, and the nin because he probably didn't have a lot to say that wasn't 'let me stay'.

"Uh, do you want to use the shower while I make up your bed?" Iruka queried gently, trying to keep the mood going for as long as possible. "There's a lock on the door."

"Promise me you will let me stay." The Anbu replied. "I trust you."

Hound wasn't an idiot it seemed. Iruka struggled with himself, the man needed help, but for some reason was determined that unqualified Iruka was the one to give it to him. The chunin could easily betray that trust, he had been going to while the nin was in the shower, but being caught out on his thoughts somehow made them less honorable.

He settled for honesty.

"Please tell me you understand how dangerous this is for me. I am in no way qualified for this responsibility-"

"I need you."

"You need help. The medi-nin are very capable of aiding whatever it is that troubles you. Why do you think I could do a better job?" Neither of them moved from their seats, but the tenseness in the Anbu's shoulders had returned.

"Please, Iruka, just one night." There was no telling what the man would do if he said no, Iruka was fast, but he wasn't that fast, there was a very large difference in fending off genin students and a full grown elite black op. If it was just one night he could manage, he would alert the Hokage in the morning. He sighed and scratched the scar along his nose nervously.

"I promise. You can stay." The Anbu's shoulders relaxed noticeably, when Iruka went to fetch him a towel, as if determined to prove he could be a good guest, the mugs were washed and set on the bench when the chunin returned.

The next ten minutes were a series of awkward exchanges, until the Anbu was finally in the shower and Iruka was making up something of a bed on his couch, he was very soon reminded of how tired he was several jaw cracking yawns tore their way out of him, and he soon gave in and prepared himself for his own bed.

He wore a pair of loose draw string pants and a tank top, setting a pair he thought might fit the Anbu on the coffee table before wandering into his room. He only felt slightly bad about the amount of wards he set up at his door. But as far as he was concerned there should be no reason for the Anbu to come near his room and it would serve the man right for trying.

He was in bed when he heard the water stop, and the quiet shuffles of the man in the other room as he redressed. If he closed his eyes he could pretend it was Naruto, staying the night after one of his missions, and if he held onto that thought he could just drift into sleep.

He dreamed of being held like he had been as a child, the warm and comforting embrace his parents had given him before they had been torn from his life. It wasn't a memory he had kept consciously, in his waking hours he was sure if he didn't have photo's he wouldn't remember much of his parents at all, not clearly. But the embrace in his dreams was so familiar, it sent his mind into cycle of memories and heart warming care he had almost forgotten.

He awoke to an empty house, spare blankets folded neatly as if they hadn't been touched, spare clothes resting on top. The whole ordeal seemed like a very bizarre nightmare, he toyed with the idea that he had been so tired he had made the whole thing up, it would be preferable. He warded and trapped his house thoroughly just before leaving for work.

He spent his day in some inner turmoil, the Anbu had been true to his word, Iruka didn't owe him anything. Tsunade should know about it definitely, and yet he couldn't shake the sympathy for the other nin. What was one night of mental instability out of however many the man had dealt with in his lifetime? He had his fair share over the years, it could have just been the desire for comfort in an unforgiving world.

He hadn't been hurt, there had been no attempts on his life or any news of danger in the academy. He had succeeded in keeping the trust and confidence of a fellow human being in need. A report didn't really seem like it would be worth the trouble and the questions. If it were to happen again though he might have to take a different stance on the whole thing. The man had probably cracked under the pressure of the lantern festival missions, since those would be over very soon, it didn't seem like something he should worry about.

Whatever the case, Iruka hesitated to inform the Hokage. His reasoning proved sound for the next five months.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

The lantern festival had come and gone, Naruto had still not returned but at least the work load had lessened. Iruka had spent his evenings alone, tea in hand, grading papers on lap and the silence of the apartment around him. If he thought he could deal with both having a dog and teaching genin, he would have a house full of yapping companions, but as it stood, he'd probably end up pulling his hair out.

He only had room in his home for himself and the occasional visitor, who would have thought being a teacher would pay so well. So he spent the majority of his home time alone, after Sandaime had died and Naruto had left with Jiraiya for training there was really very few left he felt comfortable sharing the space with.

He wasn't without friends, whenever he could he would take the time to eat or talk with the people he had grown to care for, but rarely did he invite them back to his home, the small area just made everything feel too intimate. So he used his apartment as a place for marking homework and rest, otherwise he would much prefer his time spent elsewhere.

It was in one of his marking evenings that something triggered one of his wards, making him spill his tea over several papers in his rush to be on the defensive. While he wasn't much of a fighter these days, all his repeated teaching had made him a master of basic nin techniques, and while he doubted his ability to fight off say, another wayward Anbu, he could at least keep them busy for long enough to raise alarm.

A familiar hound faced Anbu appeared before him, casually holding all the kunai from the alarms that he had set off. Iruka stared at him as he placed them all carefully on the coffee table. The Anbu was in a state, there was mud caked over his uniform and a large crack across the ceramic mask, a hastily bandaged wound on his forearm seeped blood through bandages.

"Hound?" Iruka was unwilling to let down his guard even if it was another one of those desperate times for the nin. The mask nodded at him.

"You can't keep doing this. You need to talk to a medi-" his words were cut short as the Anbu moved forward slowly, as if he was trying not to be threatening, but it really only made things worse. Iruka backed up as much as he was able without being forced to attack, he really didn't want to.

When the Anbu was within an arms reach he halted.

"Tea?" the voice was quiet, raspy, but slightly hopeful.

Iruka stared at him before sighing and nodding, his guard dropped enough to gesture to the dining table. He followed behind the Anbu, already wondering how to approach the problem this time, a drink first and then what? Another night where he was begged to allow the unstable nin to stay? This simply couldn't become a regular thing.

"Why are you back?" He started, once again finding himself preparing tea with his back turned to Hound. "If the issues you are facing are so bad, shouldn't you be considering retirement from the Anbu?"

He was answered with silence, he nearly dropped the kettle when two arms wrapped around his middle, a solid chest pressing up against his back and a cold mask pressing against the side of his neck.

"What are you doing?"

"Let me hold you."

"This is going too far, Hound-sama." Iruka frowned, setting the kettle down carefully before trying to pry the hands from around his middle.

"Is it so bad?" The quiet voice asked.

"It's not bad it's just too much. I don't know you, you are hurt, and unwell." Iruka replied, certain that this was going to end with him in a bloody mess on the floor. His futile attempt to free himself only made the Anbu grip harder.

"I've wanted to do this for so long." The voice continued as if Iruka hadn't said anything.

Iruka felt himself blush, he abandoned the attempt to free himself from the vice grip, instead trying to go for reason.

"I'm not the solution to the problem, Hound-sama. Please think about this carefully."

"Please trust me."

"Why should I? I know nothing about you, aside from what I can see." Iruka wondered how fast he would move for his Kunai or for the kettle for that matter, either would do. "You have broken into my home, distressed, unreasonable and demanding, what do I owe you trust for?"

"I haven't hurt you." The reply insisted

"Not yet." The chunin retorted.

"I wont." The muffled voice argued, "I want something for the both of us."

Iruka was afraid to ask, he had a feeling he already knew what the other shinobi was getting at.

"If I say no?" was all he could think of to say.

"Then I will remain satisfied with your company." In other words the nin would keep coming back until Iruka reported him.

"Why me, why now?" There was a different air about the Anbu today, something less shaken, less broken, Iruka realized. Gone was the distressed persona he had entered the chunin's life with, now it was something more intent.

"You are what I can't be," The mask answered quietly. "Can you blame me for wanting a taste of the life denied me? Is it so wrong to ease that pain?"

He couldn't rightfully rebuke the question, but he frowned in response. Was the Anbu crazy or just desperate? Either way was this something he could live with? His pause seemed to embolden the arms wrapped about him, hands slowly began to slide over his shirt, seeking the shape of the body beneath.

Hound let out a rumbling growl of appreciation as his hands trailed along fabric, his fingers sought entrance to the warmth. Iruka gripped the sink, unable to decide whether or not this was one of those bad ideas that could be forgiven.

When the hands moved up, collecting the back of Iruka's forehead protector, tugging the knot downwards. Iruka gave a start at the action, jerking his hands up to prevent the metal band from falling over his eyes. Hounds gloved hands stopped him, gently holding the chunin's arms in place.

"I want to kiss you." The quiet voice almost purred, causing the bright red to form over the chunin's cheeks.  
He released Iruka's arms once he was sure the dark haired chunin would not resist and resumed tying the protector over the man's eyes.

Iruka tried not to panic as one of his senses was cut off, he was allowing this. _Why was he allowing this?_ The Anbu carefully turned him around, pressing the small of Iruka's back against the bench behind him. There was a pause as Hound pulled his mask away and then, just as Iruka was coming to his senses on how bad of a situation this was, he felt dry, warm lips brush lightly against his own.

Iruka's immediate response was to pull back, but the bench prevented his going very far, and two warm hands, now stripped of the protective gloves gently captured his chin, urging him forward as those lips returned, a little more certain, to press against his own.

Iruka stood stock still, hands finding the bench to grip on for lack of a better option. The pressure at his mouth became emboldened, turning the chaste kiss into something a little more suited to lovers, a tongue traced the chunin's lower lip.

When the Anbu's hands began to wander down his form again Iruka pulled back from the lips, turning his head to the side.

"I don't think this is a good idea." He stammered when the Anbu gave a softly frustrated growl, trying to coax Iruka's mouth back against his own.

"It isn't" The Anbu agreed, pulling the chunin's body against his chest. "But, I came to you in desperate need and you let me stay, you didn't report me. Let me thank you for that." The Anbu kept his voice quiet without the mask, perhaps to hide whatever familiarity there was in it. That would mean he was close enough to Iruka that the chunin might recognize the tone.

"That really isn't nece-" Iruka gasped as the weight of the other man's body suddenly vanished, the soft sound of shifting fabric his only warning before the front of his pants were attacked by eager fingers. Iruka nearly squeaked in surprise, his own hands jerked down to protect himself from the sudden onslaught.

A strong hand captured both of his own, holding them gently but firmly away as the Anbu worked the buttons open. Iruka jumped, stuttered and tried to twist his hips away but was met with a chiding grumble and the pressure of something nuzzling into his underwear.

The teacher gasped and bit his lips firmly as the hot breath from the Anbu spread through the thin layer of cloth. He felt himself responding, a familiar need, long ignored, built up along his length. _Why was this still happening?_

A firm hand began to stroke Iruka through the cloth, driving coherent thought away like a gust of wind scattering leaves. Cool air sent a shiver up his body as his underwear was pulled downward, exposing his growing shame to the masked man. He wanted to tug the blindfold off, he wanted to dart away, he wanted to stay. The conflicting need for action stilled by his captured hands, and the sudden rush of hot wet warmth of the mouth enveloping his growing arousal.

He could hear strange whimpers, half whispered, unformed words dimly aware that they had fallen from his own mouth. His hips jerked and his knees trembled as the room filled with the lewd sounds as Hound sucked him off. The Anbu gripped his hip firmly to stop Iruka from bucking into his throat, the hold on Iruka's wrists squeezing to stop Iruka's almost desperate attempts to grasp onto something.

It was over all too soon, Iruka let out a strangled cry, his back arched as sparks of pleasure crept up his spine. He sank back against the bench, feeling the wood dig into his lower back, the sound of shifting cloth barely audible over the harsh breaths.

A whisper close to his ears made his breath hitch in surprise.

"Next time Iruka, I'd like to go further." The voice whispered, "Do you accept?"

Iruka felt himself nod, and then the presence before him was suddenly gone, leaving him a panting mess. He stayed leaning against the bench for a good ten minutes before he'd pulled himself together enough to go and have a shower.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

It shouldn't have become a regular thing, but it had. Every few months the masked Anbu would appear randomly with no warning and Iruka would find himself in the dark or blind folded, being bent over and fucked against the kitchen table, the couch, his bed. He hadn't ever asked to see the face of his lover. He doubted the nin would have agreed anyway.

He had surprised himself by not putting a stop to it. He never told Tsunade about the whole mess, instead he hid the marks Hound left on his body. Iruka had put it down to his lengthy and unfortunate abstinence, now being thrust out of him by sharply rolling hips.

With the anonymity of the mask, Iruka was able to go through his life without exposing his lover and their trysts. He found himself looking at those close to him and wondering who it could be, Genma? Raidou? The perverted Jiraiya? _Please, no._

It took over his idle thoughts throughout the day while he was marking tests and taking in mission reports. Every Jounin was a potential mysterious lover.

It lead to some confusing feelings whenever one of his friends initiated any sort of bodily contact. His body craved to be touched whenever the Anbu was gone, and melted into the solid form of the elite nin whenever he was there. He even got to the point of missing the masked nin when too much time passed.

They never did much talking. Iruka was at a loss for what to say, the Anbu was like stone when it came to information on himself, there was only the muffled ' _Can I stay?'_ Every time the Anbu appeared in his apartment.

Very soon, home had become his favorite anxiety inducing places to be. There was an odd contentment, coupled with an alienating separation from not having an actual partner, it was like being visited by a stranger in a dream, they fit in at the time and place, forming some bizarre emotional bond, but in the waking world they are no more a part of your life.

He wanted to be closer, but he was afraid of what he would find if he were, afraid that he wouldn't like who or what he found behind the mask. Mostly, he was afraid the Anbu would stop coming, and he would need to fill the space with something else.

The choice was taken away from him one evening, he was flat on his back, hands tied in place above his head, hips arched off the bed as the other nin's body pounded into him. His sharp cries were punctuated by the slapping of skin on skin.

"Don't stop, please-shit. _I love you._ " The words had fallen from his open mouth unchecked and unbidden, he was barely even aware he'd even said them until the body above him halted it's movement. The hands holding his legs up tightened their grip almost painfully under his knees.

There was a stillness between them, the only sound was the harsh panting breath.

"Do you mean that?" The whisper was strained, the gripping hands trembling with the effort to stay still.

Iruka couldn't talk, his mind was racing along with his heart.

"Iruka." The whisper urged.

"Yes." The chunin gasped.

The silence on for a few moments more before the elite nin's hips renewed their urgent movement, a mouth muffled Iruka's cries, the kiss was hard, possessive, and punctuated by sharp thrusts inside of his body.

Just as their lips parted, a hand released his leg, exposing damp skin to the cold air. The blindfold came away from his eyes in a swift movement, leaving Iruka almost blinded by the light in the room.

The bi colored eyes of Hatake Kakashi stared back him.

Iruka managed a strangled sounding noise surprise before the infamous copy nin hit his prostate. Suddenly the shock of his identity seemed very unimportant, the only words or thoughts the teacher could muster were _fuck_ , and _yes._

He would leave the panicked revelation for later.


	2. Going home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi's point of view as he discovers Iruka

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a few requests for a Kakashi point of view, and I've done my best to put this together. I may add one more chapter of the aftermath if it's still wanted. 
> 
> There is some overlap in the chapters but I've tried to make it as minimal as possible, enjoy!

Kakashi's obsession had started with Mizuki's betrayal. While questioning the man seemed to point towards him working alone, driven by his sadistic nature and superiority complex, the village could not risk another spy divulging secrets to the enemy. Anyone close to the traitorous nin were under intense scrutiny from the Anbu.

Sandaime had trust in Iruka, it was a notion Kakashi echoed, knowing from experience in their youth the other man had appalling cut-throat instincts. But as he was Mizuki's supposed closest friend the Leaf could not risk being less than thorough. It was mostly as a precaution, being nearly murdered by the man gave Iruka something of a free pass from interrogation.

Instead, they had him watched.  
  
The copy nin had accepted the task, but was overly prepared to be bored to tears by the lack of suspicious acts Iruka performed. He had even brought icha icha with him on more than one occasion.

Still, watching Iruka was in its own way like reading one of his favorite books. With the danger passed, and the young hero saving his teachers life, Iruka had grown to care for the young Naruto. His bond soon overcoming his hatred of the nine-tails, the chunin sensei begun to open up. His smiles came more freely, and more honestly. It seemed a weight was lifted from his shoulders. The character development was awe inspiring, really.  
  
It was just the content that needed work.

Iruka taught his classes, went home, went to the missions desks, went home to grade papers, then sleep, got up, rinse wash and repeat. He could pin point the exact moment the chunin would be at any given moment during the day. It was almost painful to see such a normal life.

He knew exactly who Iruka spent time with and who made him laugh the loudest. He knew the teachers favorite food, what time he went to bed, how he rubbed at his scar in concentration and yelled into the silence of his apartment while grading papers.

He knew about the traps Iruka set up religiously every evening. The only point of any real interest he had during the sensei's day.  
  
While that wasn't totally unwarranted that a shinobi should trap his own home, it still provoked Kakashi to break into his apartment to snoop around. Just in case.

His own apartment was similar in size and space, but Iruka had managed to make the rooms look like a home rather than just a place to rest. It was inviting, and dare he think it, even relaxing.

He tugged his mask down just a little to expose his sensitive nose, scenting the stale air of the living room. The whole apartment had an unusual scent to it, underneath the clean hints of laundry powder and wood polish, a muted tone of sweet spice. It took Kakashi a moment to realize he was smelling Iruka.

He had never consciously tried to hone in on the sensei's personal scent, it was not unpleasant, at least, if anything it was a sort of soothing, like the smell of a welcoming hot meal.

It was strange, actually being inside Iruka's place, he felt oddly at ease. As he poked around the chunin's belongings he began to feel a little like he was caught in some sort of time bubble. His mind assembled images of Iruka, sitting at his dining table, or marking papers on his couch.  
  
Everything about the man was so damn homey.  
  
It felt nice to be privy to this world.

When his search dug up nothing of interest he stood a moment in the living room, he decided it was time to give Iruka a final test. He flickered to the missions hall and waited. He was entirely bemused and a little irritated with Iruka's lack of caution. Really his confrontation of the chunin had meant to be a little scare, put the fear of god into him and see if he sweated.  
  
The reaction he got was a little- no, _a lot_ more entertaining.  
  
“Ah, Anbu-sama, I'm sorry I wasn't watching where I was going.” Iruka apologized quickly, after walking right into an intentionally poorly positioned Kakashi.  
  
“You can't afford to be distracted, sensei.” The copy nin replied, trying to keep the smirk out of his tone.  
  
Iruka had gone redder than Kakashi had ever thought possible, desperately squirming to keep his temper in check.

“Of course! I'm sorry, it's been a long day.” The chunin choked out and bowed his head again, still red as a beet. _Kami,_ it was all far too easy.  
  
“Excuse me, I should be getting home.” Iruka blurted out, trying to fill the silence Kakashi forced on him.  
  
Kakashi reached out lazily, gripping the poor sensei's shoulder.

“You live alone, Umino Iruka sensei.” The statement wasn't _quite_ non _-_ threatening.  
  
“Ah, yes. Was there something you wanted, Anbu-sama?” The absolute puzzlement mixed with nervous energy was enough of an answer for Kakashi. Iruka was by all accounts incapable of deceit, he was right to have declined becoming a jounin. He was far too... good natured.  
  
He let Iruka go, watching the man dart around the corner with more speed than necessary, and returned to the Hokage to report his huge waste of time. He was promptly relieved of Iruka watching duties.

 

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

 

It only took three days before any semblance of normalcy was thrown out the window.

The Anbu had been alerted to an attack on one of the sub clans in Leaf territory. There had been rumors of Orochimaru's activities nearby, so a small squad had gone in hunt, finding a village in panic.

Crane had been first on site, it had been his home once, long before he joined the Anbu. His resolve was strong, and the information he received set the arriving Anbu straight to task.

Six children were missing, and the suspicion was pointed at the infamous snake, Orochimaru. The assailants tracks split off in two directions. The Anbu moved into teams to hunt them down. Their orders were to prioritize retrieving the children alive.  
  
Hound and Crane had paired off. Using Kakashi's keen tracking abilities and Crane's intimate knowledge of the area it only took them a few hours of hard travel before they had any sign of catching up with the kidnappers.

It was not a good sign.  
  
A child lay, pale and still in a clearing, slumped at the base of a tree, brutalized almost beyond recognition. Her small body twisted in unnatural angles, indicating a fall from a great height. Her knuckles were bloodied, and her clothing torn, indicating that she had fought her captors, delaying them enough to make her more of a liability than a prize.

Kakashi revealed his Sharingan, the lazy red and black swirl of his eye searching the forest for signs of ambush. He nodded to Crane to give him the all clear.

Crane crouched over the child, and quickly checked for a pulse. Her small body shook at the contact as if a jolt of life had sprung from his touch. Her chest shuddered with a rattling breath and her eyes creaked open to stare up at him. There was no fear in her gaze, just tired and calm acceptance.

“She's alive!” The muffled bird-masked nin called, surprised _, relieved._

Crane wasted no time, his hands glowing with medical chakra. As Kakashi stood watch he began work on her small battered form.  
  
“We're here, now, you're safe, Hana.” Crane murmured his reassurances to the girl before his concentration fixed on her healing. He could only do so much without aid, but it might be enough to get her back to the village.

It seemed to take an age, her harsh breaths the only indication she as still alive.

Kakashi stood tense and ready, his eyes scanning for danger while his team mate worked.

Minutes passed in stretched out silence, before her body let out a racking shudder, one hand reached up in some blind motion to grasp at the hands trying to heal her, small desperate nails found purchase in bare skin before falling limp.  
  
The life in her eyes slipped away in a split second.  
  
Crane halted his ninjutsu with an air of stunned silence. His hands seemed unsure of what to do or where to be, they hovered over the still form. His masked eyes glanced from the girl to Kakashi , a small shake of his masked head just as uncertain as his hands. Kakashi let out a soft growl under his breath, his mind already working a mile a minute to both conjure and dispel memories of his young team mate, Rin in her final moments, so many years ago.

It was not a memory he could afford.  
  
He offered himself the only solace he could. If Orochimaru was behind this, the girl was better off dead than in his hands. With that thought he could push away the images of his long dead comrade, it would not work forever, but it was all he had right now.  
  
“Send a message to the village so they can collect the girl. We need to track down the kidnappers.” He ordered, already moving in the direction of the tracks left behind.  
  
A sound made him pause.  
  
He turned to see Crane grip at the child's clothing as he shook her limp form; a strangled sounding sob falling from him. Kakashi stared.  
  
“Crane!” He stepped forward, then halted. Turning his eyes away from the scene and swallowing hard. He softened his voice. “Crane, take her home now.”

The other man could only suck in a breath and nod. His hands slowly gathered the girl to his chest in a protective embrace. Kakashi left without glancing back.

With his team mate gone, he was likely only going to be able to gather information, but it was a start. He struggled to push the image of the other man from his mind. He knew the grief all too well, this was not a time to reflect on it.

With determination and almost reckless speed, he found his targets not too much further ahead. Or at least, what was left of them.  
  
A boy with dark hair, no older than ten stood over his fallen comrade, kunai in hand. The prone child a mass of stab wounds and blood. Hound approached silently, sharingan taking in all details. Both boys wore the bright insignia of their village, the one who still lived wiped his blade off on the one his fallen comrade had worn proudly on his shirt.

When the boy turned, it was with startling speed, his attack lurching straight at the slowly approaching Kakashi. The kunai skimmed the Anbu's mask as the older shinobi dodged out of the way. He would not underestimate the boy after that.  
  
The Copy nin moved into tactical position, looking for a gap in the boys defense. The young murderer glared at him, his face pale but determined. His eyes racking over Hounds mask, his lips curling into a grimace.  
  
The expectant silence stretched out between them.

The boy shifted, his hands digging into his belt pocket. Kakashi's muscles tensed, ready to move. The boy grinned, took whatever it was from his belt and stuffed it in his mouth. He barely chewed, and the moment he swallowed his eyes rolled up and his body began to convulse.  
  
Kakashi reached him in less than a moment, ready to force the poison from the small body. But it was already too late. He stood staring at the vacant eyes of the dead. Barely able to process what he had just seen. It seemed an age where he stood motionless, he tried to regain control of his racing heart but the cold fingers of dread had found their way around it. He thought he would have been numb to all that.  
  
It seemed hours had passed before he found his way back to the village, the bodies of the boys rested on his shoulders. He would find out later when the Anbu regrouped; four young shinobi had planned and kidnapped two children to bring to Orochimaru.  
  
The other black op team had managed to successfully hunt down and capture the offenders. One of them had also eaten poison rather than submit to the Anbu. The other they had managed to subdue in time. The child they had taken was mercifully still alive.

It would mean they had each been ready to die for their master should they fail their mission.

Just as he had done for Rin, the boy had killed his comrade. A parallel that was far too close to home, it left a heavy feeling in Kakashi's gut that would not be forgotten through the return to Konoha.

His eventual report to the Hokage was robotic, straight fact. He shook her off when she questioned him about his well being.

When he was cleared for home, he stood at the entrance of his apartment. His thoughts, a chaotic mess of memory and regret, desperately searched for something to hang onto. Something that wasn't Rin, something that would shove the poison of his mind back into the bottle he had been keeping it in.

He would never be able to explain why, at that moment, the image of Iruka sitting at his kitchen table drinking tea, sprang into his mind. He would also not be able to explain why he suddenly found himself inside the chunin's apartment.  
  
The only thing he knew was that he needed to be there. _More than anything_.

When the chunin had allowed him to stay the night, it was like some sort of floodgate opened up inside him. He was mentally and emotionally exhausted, the proximity to another being that was so outside his world was like a lifeline.

The gentleness in which the chunin received him made his heart ache.

But when Iruka suggested he find help elsewhere, he did something he had never done in his life. He begged. The words rolled off his tongue in desperation not to be alone. Not to be sent away. To be treated as a fellow human being and not the knife attached to the arm of Konoha.  
  
Iruka had mercifully relented.  
  
He had showered at the sensei's invitation, taking care not to make it obvious that he knew Iruka's apartment inside out. The scalding water rolled off him leaving red and irritated skin, it was cathartic, he could almost feel the inner filth washing off him. Almost.

When he had left the bathroom to find himself alone, with nothing but the invading scent of the chunin to keep him company, he almost sobbed.

Kakashi had dressed in the offered clothing, collapsed on the couch and buried his nose in the pillow that smelled like- it smelled like fucking _home_.  
  
It wasn't enough.  
  
He tried for two hours before giving up on the idea of sleep. The comfortable apartment only aiding in the relaxation his body, but not his mind.  
  
All he saw was Rin.

At 1am he decided, without a shadow of a doubt he needed some kind of human contact or he was going to start to scream and never stop.

He knew it was a shit idea the moment it came into his head, but once there, like a worm it burrowed into him, and whispered of the relief he could have.

The wards around Iruka's door, to the teachers credit, actually took him a few moments to untangle. His hands shook a little with the effort, and then, he was inside Iruka's room. He stood a little uncertainly at the foot of the bed, and watched the chunin sleep. The young sensei is on his back, dark hair draped over the pillow around his head like spilled blood.  
  
Kakashi inhaled, and stepped up to the sleeping form, one hand outstretched to touch the still face. He lightly tapped the soft cheek; his Sharingan exposed, ready to send the chunin back to sleep if he stirred. He needn't have bothered, Iruka slept like the dead. More razer sharp shinobi instincts at work.  
  
The copy-nin stared, his next move had not really been thought out, and he had had a sudden epiphany regarding creepiness of his actions. Still, he couldn't turn away. Not when the smell of Iruka had invaded his senses, not when all he could think about was his desperate need to feel somewhat human. He barely considered his next move; in one fluid motion he had lain down next to the chunin and a fraction of a second after that, draped his arm over the sleeping form.

Kakashi allowed himself a true moment to relax, for the first time in years, and feel comfort in the warmth of another presence. He was gone well before Iruka woke up. The wards back in place and borrowed clothes returned to the couch.

 

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

 

Iruka never told the Hokage about 'Hound' visiting him. Kakashi had nervously waited for the call to Tsunade's office, the day after the incident, he was still waiting a month later. The call never came, and Iruka, as far as Kakashi could tell, never told a soul about what had happened. The copy-nin couldn't think for the life of him why the sensei would be so careless about the mental security of a man that was supposed to be protecting the village.

He spent far too many nights mulling it over, without acceptable answer. Those nights spilled over into his days, he watched Iruka from afar, and tried in vain to discern motive or deception, and found nothing.  
  
Soon enough, Iruka was all he was thinking about.

It surprised him at first, he had never _obsessed_ about anyone, not in that way. It's ceased to be simple curiosity, but he doesn't believe it's love, he's never really taken the time to actually put himself in that position, though he's had more than a few opportunities.  
  
Iruka just seemed so unlike himself that it's almost an escape just to watch him go about his day.  
  
He found himself addicted to the idea of being privy to that life. Icha Icha books just don't scratch the itch the way they used to, he needed something physical, something tangible, now that he knew what it felt like.

Kakashi made the conscious choice to go and thank Iruka personally. And then... _and then._ It had been the familiar surroundings, Iruka's warm scent and the kindness and concern the other nin had for him, a complete stranger who's presence was not at all comfortable to the nervous teacher.

Iruka had started making him a drink anyway and, _kami_ , it was like a switch in his brian just flipped. Kakashi just couldn't keep his hands to himself any more. He needed the warmth, the solid form pressed against his chest. Then he needed the taste.

The chunin's mouth had been pliant and warm, and when he hadn't been shoved away, Kakashi had pushed at the absolute limit of what he thought he could get away with. He had found his mouth wrapped around Iruka's length as if he could take the very definable essence of the man through his cock.  
  
Iruka tasted like he smelled.  
  
Like _home._

Kakashi could not let that go. Until Iruka outright refused him, he _would not_ let it go.

He returned to Iruka's- _his home_ whenever he was able. Burying himself within the hot and welcoming body of the chunin. It was like Iruka needed to feel a part of the shinobi life in a way that was suitable to him. He reveled in the secrecy of it, he had become a fixture in the sensei's life, pulling the man, just a little, into his world while being simultaneously added into the normalcy of Iruka's.

Soon his obsession was not only with the taste and smell of Iruka, but the feeling of him as well. The way his body arched up to meet him in the throws of passion, or how it trembled when Kakashi slammed into that sweet bundle of nerves inside him. Words and gasps falling from his mouth like little prayers.  
  
Mostly he was in love with the trust Iruka gave him, and the trust he received. The chunin never once tried to sneak a peak at his secret lover. He never even tried to get him to spill his name, and he never spoke of their deeds to anyone. He just accepted whatever Kakashi had to give and it was enough.  
  
The copy-nin really did enjoy rewarding good behavior.

He had thought many times about revealing himself. He had also seriously considered just stopping and never going back to the warmth of Iruka. He never anticipated that it would be Iruka who would make the choice for both of them.

The body beneath him trembled and jerked against his thrusts, the chunin's blindfolded face tilted back, mouth agape with gasped pleasure.  
  
“Don't stop, please- shit. I love you!” Iruka had half moaned the words and Kakashi had frozen in surprise. He stared at the naked chunin beneath him, his mind going into overdrive, a chorus of voices sharply questioned and then pleaded with the statement.  
  
“Do you mean that?” Kakashi finally whispered, gripping the knees in his hands tightly trying to force Iruka to focus on the question.  
  
He was answered with silence, the chunin's mouth worked around his thoughts but released no sound. His bound hands twisting uneasily against the headboard.  
  
“Iruka.” Kakashi urged, almost desperate. More desperate in his heart than he was in body.  
  
“Yes.” Iruka finally gasped.  
  
The copy-nin pressed himself into the chunin's body, a reward, a thank you. His movements becoming almost desperate in his need to be closer, deeper. He thrust until Iruka screamed, angling his hip to catch that sensitive spot inside him.  
  
Then, without any hesitation he pulled the blindfold off the chunin.  
  
Iruka blinked in lust addled confusion. His eyes quickly focused in the dim light and landed on Kakashi's face. Kakashi slammed into him as the mixed reactions crossed Iruka's face then wrapped one hand around the sensei's cock. Whatever Iruka had thought, whatever his shock would have to wait, as the younger man's body tipped over the brink.

 

 

 


	3. Let me stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter! The results of the surprise reveal.

No awkwardness in his entire life to that could compare with the moment he came down from the post coital high. Hatake Kakashi, _the Hatake Kakashi,_ was draped over him, drenched in a sheen of sweat and panting from exertion. A faint red blush on his cheeks, the bi-coloured eyes fixated on Iruka's, as if he couldn't look away. Their warm breath mingled in the space between them for two beats, three, until Kakashi leaned forward, pressing his warm dry lips against Iruka's in a gentle but certain kiss.

The sensei's eyes widened in surprise. The intimate movement silenced the turmoil of voices in his head, if only for a moment. He had been kissing Kakashi for months, but seeing that surprisingly beautiful face so close to his own, eyes closed, silver lashes dusting pale skin, just seemed so alien. He needed time to process, but the insistent press of those lips against his drove any chance of that happening away.

They had been entwined in a significantly more intense act just moments before, the mess of their copulation evident against Iruka's stomach. But the mystery was gone, there was only the stark reality that the man he had been bedding was an actual, living breathing person behind that mask. And that person was now asking to be known, to be named and accepted through a press of lips and gentle touches to his jaw.

Then a thought struck Iruka, wrapping him in a moment of desperation, and just as Kakashi had given up trying to pry affection from his mouth and begun to pull away, Iruka pressed forward, forcing the gentle union between them to continue. The copy-nin let out a soft sigh through his nose, perhaps in relief as he resumed the kiss, the gentle slide of his tongue across Iruka's lips seeking access to the warmth of his mouth.

In truth, Iruka had acted on pure panic. The prolonged kiss gave him a chance to delay the inevitable acknowledgement that, yes, he had Hatake Kakashi's bodily fluids and his own splattered over his skin, and yes he would have to get up to clean it off, and _yes_ that would mean he would have to _speak_ at some point and he really was not prepared to do so.

It said something about him that he would rather abuse his overly sensitive body again than confront Kakashi about what they had been doing for months.

He didn't want to think about it.  
  
The older man broke the union by gently leaning back, half lidded eyes regarding Iruka's face. Something about Iruka's expression caused a flicker of a frown across the copy-nin's brow, but that shadow of an expression was quickly replaced by an amused quirk of that stupidly sculpted mouth. At the smile, Iruka felt a tremor of dread run through him. That was the look he had imagined when Hound had steadily coaxed moans from his mouth with talented fingers, that smirk that said he had absolute confidence in his ability to read Iruka like a book.

“Maa, Iruka sensei.” The voice that was once muffled and indistinguishable from anyone suddenly fit so obviously in Kakashi's mouth. _Kami,_ Iruka was an idiot, an actual honest idiot. “I have been inside you, sensei. You let me, repeatedly.” That smooth voice brought a blush right to Iruka's cheeks. “Isn't it a bit late to be having inner turmoil over it?”  
  
And with that stupid smirk and those stupid words, the romantic mystery surrounding Hound evaporated with the uncertain danger of bedding an unstable Anbu. Iruka felt the heat rise to his face, he _knew_ Kakashi, he had known the fucker for years! The outrage in him flared up, only to splutter out as Kakashi's smirk fell from his lips into a soft but unbearably fond smile.  
  
“Sleep on it, Iruka. I will come back tomorrow night, we can talk then.” The taller man slowly pulled away, taking the warmth of his body with him, he watched Iruka as he redressed slowly like some reverse tease. Iruka should have said something, the words were there, caught in his throat behind the disbelief and the embarrassment that were vying for first outburst. Instead he had lain there with his mouth slightly agape, in perpetual shock until Kakashi quietly slipped on the ceramic Anbu mask and flickered from the room.

Iruka was left alone to clean up the mess of his body and mind.  
  
It was only when the confused jumble of emotion and thought drove him from his bed into the shower that he began to make sense of the whole ordeal. He had declared love to Kakashi, what was worse was that he had absolutely meant it. It hadn't been some outburst in the throws of passion, he had grown to crave and pine after the warmth of the Hound's body. It was for the strange connection between them that went beyond words, or sex, like a coming together of two pieces of a puzzle.

The affection and the care between them had not been about a mask. Hounds almost obsessive need to touch and taste him was not about a mask. It had been about Kakashi.

But now there was the emotional baggage of his history with the infamous copy-nin. He had to sort through his conceptions of Kakashi and Hound and try to merge them into one. He spent a lot of time under the hot water stream with the heels of his palms kneading into his eye sockets.

The Anbu were crazy, but Iruka was officially crazier. He had let this happen, he had allowed an unstable man into his home and then into his body, did that mean he was the one who had truly taken advantage? And now that he finally saw what was behind the mask, did the fact that he was torn whether or not he still wanted that person make him the worst of all people?

His thought spun around in his head until the water ran cold. When he finally walked back into his bedroom he stood at the foot of his sinfully mussed bed and stared at it like it could give him answers. Whether thus whole affair had been a figment of a sex starved imagination.

He almost robotically stripped the sheets from the bed and replaced them, erasing the smell of the Hound-Kakashi. It was another hour before he could bring himself to climb into the bedding, his abused body was too tired to remain awake through his mental crisis, and the moment his head hit the pillow for the second time that night, he was asleep.

 

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

 

By some miracle he had gotten through his day without losing his mind. The anticipation for the evening was like a looming shadow breathing down his neck. He was uncertain if he would be happier if Kakashi decided not to show up or whether he hoped the man was waiting for him when he got home. The need for answers side by side with absolute dread.

Naruto managed to cover him in chalk dust in a poorly concealed trap that Iruka really should have seen coming, but distracted as he was just took it all straight to the face.  
  
He even managed to get through his entire shift at the missions room without yelling at a single person. Genma arched an eyebrow at him when he walked into his desk for the third time because his thoughts had taken him on yet another search of his unstable state.

Maybe he could just stay in the missions building all night.

Iruka was not a coward, he would confront Kakashi even if it was weeks down the line. The village was too damn small to hide from each other forever. Still, when his hand closed on the door handle of his apartment, he hesitated. With a mental slap he sucked in a breath and entered his home, eyes darting around the living room for signs of the other shinobi.

His shoulders relaxed slightly when there was no one there waiting for him.

He boiled the kettle, his flak jacket and forehead protector carefully rested on the arm of the couch, his hair down and his hands busily preparing the tea leaves. Echos of a memory flickered through his mind, a mask and a straw, the press of the bench against his back and the arms wrapped around his middle, now a memory that seemed so different when all he could see instead of Hound's mask was Kakashi's stupidly pretty face.

He shook himself and abandoned the tea.

An hour passed quietly, he had begun marking the papers of his students when a knock startled him. He stared at the door to his apartment for longer than he intended, when the knock came again he stood quickly and jerked the door open. His surprise evident when an unmasked Kakashi waited for him at his doorstep, one hand raised in a casual and awkward hello.

Iruka felt himself relax, as if his whole world had balanced on the simple act of how rather than when Kakashi would show up. They stared at each other for a few moments before Iruka remembered himself and stepped back to let the Copy-nin into his home.  
  
They stood in his lounge, having not spoken a word between them, just staring at each other to see who would make the first move. It was Iruka.  
  
“Hound- Kakashi.” He began, then cleared his throat. “I want to be clear about how I feel. So please don't interrupt me.” He felt his shoulders tense up again, Kakashi just watched him, his face impassive but the way his fingers twitched gave away the other man's tension. “I do not at all regret our- our time together, and I wont deny that I had begun to wish it had been more.”  
  
Kakashi's single visible eye half closed, as if he was expecting the 'but'. He shifted slightly, fingers tugging down the cover over his mouth, and the band over his sharingan. Iruka paused, watching him in surprise before he realized Kakashi was exposing himself, removing the masks he wore to show Iruka just how serious he was.

The chunin felt his heart beat speed up.

“But..” He began, trying to steady his breath. “But I can't pretend that I love a man that I only know one part of. I love Hound, but I realize he is not a full person, he is only a small portion of one.” Kakashi stiffened a bit and then suddenly stepped forward, crowding Iruka's personal space. His fingers cupped around Iruka's chin in a gentle grasp and he stared into the sensei's dark eyes.  
  
“Then, Iruka, let me show you the rest of him.” There was an odd desperation in Kakashi's voice that Iruka had only heard once, the night Hound had first come into his home. It made his breath hitch in surprise.

Iruka felt his chest tighten as he stared up into the odd eyes, he could feel the intensity of Kakashi's plead pierce him right through the heart. At that moment he could see how Hound was Kakashi, under the mask, the lines between them blurred. They stared at each other, Iruka raised his hands to rest over Kakashi's wrists, unsure whether he was going to pull them away or hold them in place.

“Let me stay.” Kakashi whispered, refusing to let Iruka turn away from his gaze. Iruka's heart flipped in his chest.  
  
“Hound-” He began, licking his lips in preparation for a hard talk.

“Let me stay, please Iruka sensei.” That pained tone again, Kakashi's fingers carefully tracing his jaw, as the breath from his voice brushed Iruka's lips.  
  
Iruka paused then swallowed thickly. He did know this man, more than most, arguably better than anyone. He knew the lazy jounin who read questionable novels, he knew the hound who ran to protect his village and suffered the damage for it. He knew the man who despite his cold reputation would still find time to race his friends over the town the day after returning from battle.

Who was he kidding really? That desperate tone that had lured him in the first time he met Hound was no different without the mask. The unexpectedly beautiful face was by no means a deterrent, but could he openly accept the man who had been showing him all that damaged affection was part of a whole.  
  
He made up his mind within a moment, his hands curling around the pale wrists of the copy-nin.  
  
“You can stay.” He whispered back.

 

-fin-

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all who took the time to read this little fic. I've been really surprised about the amount of feedback its had. Feels good, yo.  
> I hope you all enjoyed the final chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> Something I wrote ages ago, probably a little wordy but I've never been great at editing my own stuff.


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